


Genesis

by Ill_Ratte



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Feelings, M/M, Mentor Hank, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Trans Gavin Reed, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Ratte/pseuds/Ill_Ratte
Summary: When Gavin first started work at the DPD, Hank took him under his wing. Late nights of tutoring turned to fucking, and while the two of them had settled into a casual relationship, Gavin couldn’t help but want more.But maybe an unexpected pregnancy will do more help than hurt for his cause.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackberry_peachx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_peachx/gifts).

> I’m SO excited for how this came out! This was commissioned by the Lovely peachy-keen on twitter (probably not her exact url haha)   
I had so much fun writing this, I’m so glad I got an excuse to do this au ;;
> 
> If anyone would want something similar done, hit me up on tumblr @illratte and we can discuss things ;))

The first thing Gavin woke to was pain. Like someone sat on him all night and punched his chest and stomach. 

“Fuck me.” Gavin groaned. If his eyes remained closed, he could just imagine staying in bed all day and sleeping off the pain. Instead, he crawled off of the bed, wrapping one of his blankets around himself, and hobbled over to where his laptop lay on his desk. 

A string of curses left him as he settled in his seat with a thud. Tylenol might have helped, but the little white bottle was all the way in the bathroom. 

It took a few seconds for the laptop to boot up, and he tapped his fingers against the desk while he waited.

His first search was for “Flu symptoms”, first match “fever”. 

Did he have a fever? A quick hand pressed to his forehead said no, but he couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t like he had a thermometer or anything. 

Web MD was his next best bet. He typed in “sore chest” and “nausea” for symptoms, then hit enter, scrolling through the few results that came up. With the luck he had, it would be something new and exotic that was wrong with him. Something they’d at least have to make after him. 

Heartburn? No, it didn’t feel like that.   
Heart attack?? “What the fuck.” Congestive heart failure!????! “Jesus Christ.” Gavin slammed his laptop shut.   
He was fine. Maybe he had just slept wrong. And in any case, he had work in half an hour. 

Going to work was easier than actually being there, he soon realized. He had thrown on his uniform without bothering to wash or press it, and his hair was a floppy mess. No time or energy for coffee, and certainly none for breakfast. But people actually wanted him to do things now. 

“Did you finish your report?” Ben asked. The man was nice enough most days, if a bit quiet, but Gavin had to resist the urge to ask him to “kindly” fuck off. It didn’t help that his fucking uniform made him itch, and his whole body still ached, even after popping three Tylenol with water. 

All he could do was glare and mutter a gruff “I’ll get to it ASAP.” Before slinking off. 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” A laugh, then an arm wrapping around his shoulder alerted him to Hank’s presence. 

“Something like that.” He muttered, trying to act casual. An image, unbidden, of Hank’s beautiful, beautiful hands, spreading the lips of his cunt as one thick, calloused finger stroked inside of him, sprang into his mind, and Gavin pressed his legs together. They had fucked twice in the few weeks Gavin had been “under Hank’s wing”, but Hank still acted casually around him. Friends with benefits, Gavin supposed, with the benefit being Gavin being Hank’s science project of “how hard can I make a man cum”. Still, Gavin couldn’t help but want more. “Can you, Uhh, help me with my report?” 

“Thought you already knew how to do that? Didn’t I teach you?” 

“Well… I forgot. Teach me again?” He grabbed at Hank’s arm, stroking a finger through the thick, grey-blond hairs. It was a wonder in itself that someone so perfect would even look at him. 

“Alright, sweetheart.” He laughed, his hand drifting lower to squeeze his ass. “Why don’t we figure this out together?” 

Hank was more hurt than help when it came to the report, his breath right in Gavin’s ear as he murmured his suggestions, hands resting like hot lead on Gavin’s shoulders. Massaging and squeezing him as Gavin eked our every inch of stray thought that could possibly apply to the damn report, Hank even pressing a kiss into his neck when no one was looking. By the end of the half hour, the report read like it had been written by a five year old (“I found many, many bad things at the crime scene” stood out especially in his mind). But Gavin’s boxers were soaked, and an especially pleasant tingle had spread from his stomach to the heat between his legs. 

Hank stood, clapping him on the back with a “Good job, son.” That did Not make Gavin’s t-cock twitch. Not one bit. 

Before Hank could leave, Gavin’s palms streaking sweat up the thankfully-black leg of his pants, Gavin asked “Can I, uhh, see you tonight?” 

“Come by my place; you know the way.”

—————————

“Fuck! Harder!” Gavin whined, clawing at the pillows behind him. His legs spasmed, itching to lock around Hank’s neck and draw him closer. Itches to feel his hot tongue lap deeper against his folds, and let the white hot fire engulf him as Hank’s teeth brushed against the head of his twitching t-dick. 

Instead, Hank lazily drawled, “Remember your manners, kitten.” pulling back to give him a reproachful stare. 

A small sob left Gavin, before he mewled out “Please!”, letting his legs spread wider. 

Hank grunted in acknowledgement, this time inserting a finger into him, the lazy grin on his face telling Gavin that the bastard relished watching him squirm. 

“Daddy please put your cock in me now!!” He whined. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t want your kitty to feel unloved, now do we? He’s had enough teasing for one night.”

Gavin buried his face in his pillow. Even being his third time with Hank, the way Hank referred to his parts still got to him, making him squirm in the most embarrassing and delightful of ways. 

Gavin couldn’t help a low moan as the head of Hank’s cock pushed against his opening. The man was fucking huge, not something Gavin necessarily preferred, but he certainly had skill to match his girth. As he slid inside, Gavin let out a string of whines, squirming against him. Hank always said he loved his “sweet little mewls”. 

“Do you mind if I..” Hank’s hand hovered over one of Gavin’s tits. He had enjoyed the man fondling them before, but… 

“N-not today! Still feel s-soore!” 

“Poor thing. Daddy will have to make you feel better then, won’t he?” He chuckled, thrusting in with particular vigor. 

Gavin growled, flicking his hips to meet Hank’s thrust. He was still sore all over, actually, but it was nothing he couldn’t ignore. Until Gavin thrust against him again, a strange, queasy nausea building along with his orgasm. 

“Fuck! Pull out!” 

Confusion lit Hank’s face, but he complied. “Sweetheart, are you-“

“Bathroom!“

A strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder, guiding him into the master suite bathroom. A second later, Gavin hurled his lunch into the toilet, clutching at the glimmering porcelain with hooked claws. 

Gavin remained hunched over the toilet for what felt like hours, Hank’s hands in his hair. He half expected him to leave, but when Gavin finished, Hank only offered him a cup of water. “Jesus, kid. You alright?”

Gavin nodded, even as he felt the slightest amount of tears well in his eyes. The only way it could have gone worse was if he had hurled all over Hank. “Think so.”

“If you’re feeling up to it, we can finish. Otherwise, you’re, uhh, free to stay over. In the guest room or my room, whatever’s more comfortable.” 

“It’s- it’s fine. Think I should go, anyways. Gotta get in early tomorrow.” He went back into the bedroom to get his things. It was a silly thought, but he wanted Hank to kiss him goodbye. Instead, he waved politely at Hank before exiting the bedroom. What he really needed was to deal with his fucking illness. 

——————

The worst thing to welcome in Gavin’s morning was the tiny, mocking plus sign staring up at him. Not the vomiting, or even the awkwardness of getting multiple pregnancy tests at 5:39 am (the “This for you?” and snicker from the cashier certainly didn’t help). The test wasn’t the first, or the second, or the third. It was the sixth. Up until now, he had been running on a manic frenzie. Now, Gavin needed to sit down. He felt himself near collapse on the lid of the toilet as the room spun around him. He didn’t know what to do, but vomiting seemed like a good course of action. 

When he finished being sick, he tried to stand. His legs wobbled. He was far along, wasn’t he? Testosterone had taken away his periods, taken away any way of measuring just when the baby had been created, but it hadn’t taken his fertility. Testosterone was a cruel god. 

He had to think. The only person he had had sexual contact with in the last month or so was Hank. 

“Fuck.” Gavin needed to tell him. Even if Hank didn’t want him, he needed his help. Even if it was in getting rid of it. 

His fingers shook as he typed the text, and he had to redo it twice. “We need to talk. Meet me somewhere after work.” He was too tired to figure out where. 

Hank didn’t seem especially perturbed at work, acting like nothing was wrong. “Where do you want to meet, son?” 

“Anywhere you’re comfortable with.” Just not at his house. He couldn’t stand being directly rejected there. Of course, he reminded himself, he couldn’t really ask for much; Hank was too important to have his life fucked up by a mistake with some rookie. All he could forgive himself for asking for was money. 

“Why not dinner? I’ll take you somewhere nice.” Hank’s hand reached up to squeeze his shoulder, and Gavin couldn’t bear to shake it off. 

“Yeah. Sounds real nice.” He murmured, gently disentangling himself. All he wanted was for Hank to pull him in for a real hug, but he knew it wouldn’t it last. 

——————————

Hank drove him right from work. Gavin usually took the bus, and had been too much of a hassle to go home first. Still, Gavin hoped that the restaurant was near a bus station. 

“You work well today?” Hank asked, fingers tapping on the wheel.

“Yeah.”

“Throw up again? You uhh, looked pretty bad last night; might wanna get that checked out.” A hand reached out to pat Gavin’s shoulder, and Gavin nodded. He felt like vomiting all over again. 

Gavin thought he’d get relief when they pulled into whatever restaurant Hank wanted. He had thought it would be a bar, but it seemed Hank had other ideas. It was the kind of place he imagined his father brought his mother when he was trying to stop her from divorcing him. Fancy, with prices too high to even consider naming. A guilty part of Gavin hoped Hank was paying. 

“I uhh, thought you’d like a change of pace. Something a little nicer than usual.” Hank grunted, opening the door of the car for him like a goddamned chauffeur. 

“Thanks. It’s nice.”

They were seated with little fuss, the anxiety boiling in Gavin’s stomach stopping him from admiring the fairy lights. As expected, everything on the menu was far out of his price range. 

“I’m paying, by the way. And… would you like an appetizer?”

“Sure. Garlic bread.” It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with Hank afterwards, anyways. 

They placed their orders, and Gavin decided to stare at the table. He needed to work up the courage. And yet, a small part of him wanted to bask in the moment, however tainted by anxiety it was. 

“Do you want me to go first?”

Gavin blinked, staring owlishly up at Hank. 

“Because I think I know what this is about.”

He didn’t answer. He should have, but blind fear held him in place. 

“I- I’m not the youngest man, and I know that, and you’re young and you have so much ahead of you, and I’ve tried to respect that. I- I know ‘kids these days’ aren’t looking for attachment and all that shit, and you’ve got your whole goddamn career to think about, and I’ll only weigh you down, but I care about you-“

Hank cared about him? He must have misheard it, but the words playing and replaying in his mind told him otherwise. It might have been perfect, if not for the new guilt that shot through Gavin’s stomach. Because he was going to ruin all of it. Gavin knew that if he didn’t stop him now, he never would. “I’m pregnant!” 

Now, it was Hank’s turn to blink. “You’re What?”

“Pregnant. Think I’m a few weeks along. Look, you don’t- all I need from you is just- some money, ok? I’ll be fine on my own, and you won’t even have to bother with me-“ However much Hank thought he cared about Gavin, he knew it wasn’t enough to deal with a fucking kid. 

He thought Hank would be relieved. Instead, Hank looked angry. The angriest Gavin had ever seen him. “Do you really think I would leave you out to dry after I finished telling you how much I care about?” He sighed through his nose. “I’ll do whatever you want, Gavin, but I promise I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say. A thank you, maybe, even though that measured pitifully minuscule to how he truly felt. Another assurance that Hank didn’t have to help, even though he knew from the look on Hank’s face that it would be shot down. Instead, Gavin started crying. 

Fat, wet tears that drew the attention of more than a few surrounding tables, but that didn’t matter. Because he was in Hank’s arms, Hank smoothing his hair and shushing him and muttering that “It’ll be alright, son.” right into Gavin’s ear in the way that Hank knew made Gavin shiver. Hank cared about him, no strings attached, and in that moment, that was all that Gavin needed. 

In the end, they had to have their food to go. But Gavin thought it was a much better experience eating it stretched out on the couch with Hank, one of his thick, fluffy wool blankets (plaid like some of Hank’s less awful shirts) pulled tight over both of them. 

“You know,” Hank chuckled, patting Gavin’s stomach. “I think we should come up with some names for our child. So we have options.”

“Isn’t that a little early?”

“No. We don’t want to be that couple who has to name our kid John or Jane or some shit, just because we couldn’t come up with a name that stuck beforehand. And we need to pick a strong one, see? Like Rambo. Or Robocop.”

“Jesus Christ, Hank. And we don’t even know what gender the baby is.”

“Robocop is gender neutral.”

“Well, for a girl, I think Amanda would be nice, after an old friend of mine.”

“And for a boy?” Hank smiled, his fingers rubbing Gavin’s arm. 

“I don’t know. Jason maybe. Or Hunter!” Gavin didn’t have a lot of fond memories of men to choose from. 

“Well, for a girl I’ve always liked the name Sally. Seems like a classic to me.”

“And what about a boy?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe Cole? I always thought it had a nice ring to it.”

“I think Cole is cute. Like Old King Cole, kind of like how fucking old you are.”

“If you weren’t pregnant, Gavin, I would sock you with this pillow.”

“You’re a coward.” Gavin laughed, snuggling closer. Hank rolled his eyes but let him, patting his hair. His arms were so warm, so soft and gentle against him, and Gavin knew he could lie there forever. While they still had a long road ahead of them, right now, everything was perfect.


End file.
